


I Was Born for You

by LaDameRuaidh



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-09 01:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10400259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDameRuaidh/pseuds/LaDameRuaidh
Summary: Claire Beauchamp moves to Edinburgh and finds that life doesn't necessarily happen the way that you expect it to.





	1. Chapter 1

Claire: 

I didn’t know that my whole life was going to change when I took a post at a teaching hospital in Scotland. Well, that’s not entirely true. Leaving Boston and going anywhere was going to be a shock, particularly to Scotland after my time in America. But what happened after was something I never could have imagined.

I arrived in Edinburgh on a relatively warm day in the middle of May, which I relished in upon arrival, but cursed after I heaved myself and my suitcases from the train to my new apartment building. After I dragged my last bag into the building, I twisted my wild brown curls into a bun on the top of my head, grateful for a light breeze that cooled the flushed skin of my neck for a moment.

The landlord had left the key to my new apartment in the mailbox in the lobby, but I couldn’t remember the code he had sent me to open it. I sighed, turning to take in the mountain of baggage I had transported, wondering what bag I had shoved my phone into in my haste to get to my new home.

Once I located my elusive cell phone and finally opened the mailbox, I started up the stairs to my third floor apartment, laden with my first round of heavy bags. It only took two more trips to get everything into the hallway outside my door before I pulled the key out of the back pocket of my jeans and opened the door to my new life.

The apartment was small, but it was all I needed in the world. I went around, opening the windows and turning on the lights so I could see the place for real, instead of just in the photos sent to me via email. I liked the space. It was an older building, and there was a wall of exposed stone in the living room, and wood beams along the ceiling. It had character, and I couldn’t wait to put my own touches on it.

What had completely sold me on the place were the floor to ceiling built in bookshelves in the living room. I scarcely had any books, other than medical journals and school books, but I was looking forward to scouring the local used bookshops for novels and volumes to fill the shelves.

I had three weeks from the time that I arrived in Edinburgh before I was due to start at work, and I did my best to make the most of it. A few days after I had moved in, I had already bought a car, and some of the more necessary furniture for an apartment. I was still eating takeout from containers with plastic forks, but I had a couch and a mattress and a television, and curtains on the windows. I could get by with that, at least for a little while.

I was approaching the end of my first week in Scotland when I began my search for my other purchases- books. When I was a child, I lived with my Uncle Lamb after my parents died, and we spent my formative years traveling the world as he excavated archeological digs and lectured at universities. He had instilled in me a love of knowledge, history and of reading, and it was something that helped to keep my mind sharp during long draining night shifts in the hospital.

It was also what had brought me together with…no. I couldn’t open that door right now.

It was a beautiful day in Edinburgh, so I decided that I would try walking to a bookstore that I had seen recommended on the internet. I found myself standing in the lobby of the building, frowning at the GPS map on my phone as I tried to establish what direction I should head in to find _The Printshop_.

“Can I help ye, lass?” A think Scottish brogue behind me drew my attention, and I turned to find a bear of a man, face covered in a think brown beard, standing behind me. “You’ll be the new tenant, then? Ms. Randall, was it?”

“Er, yes,” I felt my cheeks flame red. “Ms. Beauchamp, actually. Claire Beauchamp.”

“Nice to meet ye, lass,” he shook my hand. “Murtagh Fraser. I’m the building manager.”

“Oh, you must be the Mr. Fraser who I spoke with,” I nodded. “Are you the one to speak with about changing the name on my mailbox? It still has the old tenant’s name.”

“Aye, it’s on my list of things tae do the day,” he nodded. “I was gonnae put Randall, so I’m glad I caught ye.”

“Em, yes,” I nodded, still flushed with embarrassment. “I, um, changed my name.”

“Aye,” Mr. Fraser raised an eyebrow and gave me a long appraising look. “Can I help ye find something?”

“I was trying to find _The Printshop_?” I held my phone up. “I just didn’t know which direction to head in.”

“Och, it’s nae far from here,” he said, setting down the toolbox he had in one hand. “I can even walk ye there meself.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I started, but he shook his head.

“Nae bother, lassie, my godson owns the place,” Mr. Fraser replied. “I have something for him anyway. If you just gi’e me a wee minute to take the box tae the office.”

“Take your time,” I waved, before leaning against the cool stone wall behind me. He seemed nice enough, this Murtagh Fraser, but God forbid the man ever smiled, I thought to myself.

“So, Ms. Beauchamp,” his voice startled me and I straightened. He guided me out the door and turned to head down the street. “How did ye come to be living in Edinburgh? Yer English, I believe?”

“Yes, I was born in Oxford,” I nodded. “I was living in America, but I took a post at the teaching hospital here in Edinburgh. I’m a surgeon,” I said, as Mr. Fraser’s eyes widened.

“Yer a wee bit young to be a surgeon, are ye no?” he asked.

“I started university at 16, Mr. Fraser,” I replied.

“Please, call me Murtagh, lass,” he interrupted.

“I started uni at 16, Murtagh,” I repeated, flashing him a smile. “So yes, I’m a few years younger than most of my colleagues.”

He made a noise at that, which I couldn’t quite understand. We walked in silence for another few minutes, before he stopped me in front of an old stone building with plate glass windows. “ _The Printshop_ ,” he said, and I noted the pride in his voice. “Come on in, lass.”

I stepped through the door, and was surprised at the comforting feeling that settled over me. Books were piled on shelves and stacked floor to ceiling, as far as the eye could see, and I could smell coffee brewing somewhere close by. There were comfortable chairs and pouffes in every corner and nook, encouraging people to curl up with a book and relax. It was exactly the kind of place I could see myself spending time in on days off.

It took a few moments before I was conscious of the chatter happening near me, and another moment after that to realize it was in a language I could not understand. I could see Murtagh, standing at the edge of precariously perched aisle of books, so I stepped behind him to see whom he was talking to so animatedly.

My stomach flipped as my eyes locked on Murtagh’s companion. He was…tall, my brain helpfully supplied, because there wasn’t a word for what this man was. He had to be upward of 6’2”, with wide shoulders and thick, strong arms. He had deep blue eyes, framed by thick lashes, and I smiled as I noticed that they slanted down slightly. He had a long, thin nose and a slight flush to his cheeks.

The most striking thing about him wasn’t his size, but his hair. Red wasn’t the word to describe it. It was auburn, bronze, copper, cinnamon, chestnut and gold, and I was struck with the feeling that I was seeing the physical manifestation of tongues of flames.

I realized I was staring at the exact same moment I realized this man was speaking to me.

“Can I help ye?” His voice nearly made me gasp, and I noticed the small crinkle between his brows.

“Ms. Beauchamp, this is my godson, Jamie,” Murtagh was smirking slightly as he introduced me to the man standing before me. “Jamie, this is the new lassie in the building.”

“Aye, it’s a pleasure, Ms. Beauchamp,” Jamie stuck out a hand, and I limply extended mine, still in shock.

“Claire, please,” I finally caught hold of myself. “Call me Claire.”

“Claire,” he repeated, and I sighed at how nice my name sounded in his mouth. “Can I help ye find something?”

“Oh,” I took my hand back from him. “I was looking for books to fill the bookshelves in my apartment, since I don’t have a lot and it would be a shame to leave them empty.” I realized I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop myself. “I’ll just show myself around, and you two can get back to your discussion. My apologies for the interruption.”

“Dinna fash,” Jamie smiled. “I’m here if ye need me.”

It took every ounce of willpower I had to force myself to turn around and walk away, and not scream ‘I need you!’ at the top of my lungs. I ducked around a shelf and sank into an armchair for a moment to try and gather myself before I melted into a pile of goo.

Never in my life had someone affected me the way that Jamie had, and I couldn’t wait to talk to him again.


	2. Chapter 2

Jamie:

I thought my heart was actually going to stop when I saw the lass standing over Murtagh’s shoulder. She was…a surprise, to say the least. The wild brown curls, the soft red lips, and the curves of her body…well, she was bonny, to say the least.

I was surprised to hear the English accent in her voice, but it seemed to fit her. I didn’t know most of what she said, since I was distracted by her wee mouth, but I did manage to remember her name. Claire.

“Jamie, lad,” my godfather clapped me on the shoulder, and I tried to return to the present as I caught sight of Claire walking away. Her arse, I groaned internally. “Jamie!” Murtagh tried again, and I shook my head as I tried to shake the image from my mind.

“What is it, _a goistidh_?” I said, turning to look at the older man.

“Ye ken yer nearly droolin’, aye?” he said, before lowering his voice so that no one could hear us. “What are ye doing, looking at a lassie like that, when ye’ve already a lassie of yer ain?”

“Och, dinna fash,” I rolled my eyes at him. “Laoghaire and I are nay serious. It’s no as though I’m gonnae marry the lass.”

“Aye, that’s what ye think,” I heard him mutter under his breath, and I gave him a look. “Look, laddie, I care for ye. I dinna think Claire is a good direction tae go in, there’s something she’s hiding.”

“Aye, ye kent that in the 5 minute walk from the building tae here, did ye?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Might it no be because yer no the nicest person tae talk to?”

“Och, bugger off,” he shoved my shoulder and I smiled. “Just be careful, lad.”

“Away wi’ ye,” I shoved him back, lightly. “I’ve no exchanged but 10 words with the lass. Dinna get yer breeks in an uproar.”

“Ach,” he rolled his eyes as he turned and headed for the door. “I’ll see ye later.”

I smiled as I headed for the small tea room at the back of the shop, happy with the idea I had. “Mrs. Crook, can ye make up a wee tray? Two coffees and two scones or something?” I asked the kind woman who had been running the tea room since I was a lad.

“Aye, Jamie,” she agreed. “Gi’e me a wee minute.”

I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket as I waited for her to gather the tray, and sent a quick text to the girl Murtagh had been referring to.

**Jamie Fraser:**

_Hiya, Laoghaire. Dinna think I can make dinner tonight. I have some things to take care of for the shop. Can we reschedule?_

I was trying not to be presumptive of how things would go with Claire, but no matter what way it went with her, I needed to start letting Laoghaire down. The lass was crazy.

**Laoghaire MacKenzie:**

_Are you sure? :(_ _I could bring dinner to the shop! You have to eat, Jamie._

**Jamie Fraser:**

_Aye, I’m sure. Thanks fer offering though. See you soon._

“Jamie?” Mrs. Crook set a heavy-laden tray on the counter in front of me. “Will this do?”

“Aye, Mrs. Crook, it’s perfect,” I winked at her, and she blushed.

I picked up the tray and headed to the aisle I had seen Claire go down, and stopped suddenly when I found her on the floor, stacks of books scattered on the floor around her. She didn’t notice me right away, since her nose was deep in a copy of, what looked like… “Gray’s Anatomy?”

Claire let out a squeak as she started, slamming the book closed and her head snapping up, eyes meeting mine. “Oh, hello,” her voice had risen, probably because I had scared her.

“I didna mean to startle ye,” I smiled, striding down the aisle to where she sat. “Just wanted to bring ye some coffee and get acquainted.”

“Of course,” she replied, hand pressed over her heart. She watched me as I set the tray down on the floor, before easing myself down to sit level with her. “It’s Jamie, right?”

“Aye,” I smiled, handing her a mug of coffee. “Dinna ken how ye take yer coffee, so…” I gestured at the tray, laden with milk, cream, and sugar, among other things.

“Black,” she smiled, eyes closing as she took a whiff of the strong dark roast. “I like my coffee strong.”

“Me as well,” I replied, leaning against the chair behind me. “So Murtagh told me you just moved into the building?”

“Yes, she nodded. “He was actually the first person I met in the building. He seems…nice?” I laughed, and she cracked a small smile. “He is your godfather, after all. I don’t want to offend you.”

“Ye couldnae,” I smiled. “He’s a tough one, that Murtagh, and I ken it, surely.” I glanced down at the tray and picked up my own mug. “But he cares for me as if I were his ain.”

“It’s good you have that,” she said, and I noticed the wistfulness in her voice.

“So what are ye doing in Edinburgh?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“I’m going to be working as a general surgeon at the teaching hospital here in Edinburgh,” Claire brightened up.

“Hence the reason you were reading Gray’s Anatomy, then,” I smiled. “Should I be calling ye Dr. Beauchamp instead?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Claire is fine, thank you,” I watched as she took a long sip of coffee. “What about you, Jamie? How did you come to be running this place?”

“My family owns it,” I shrugged. “It was a tea room for many years, but after I came back from France, I decided it should be a book shop. So I spent a few years skipping courses at university so that I could purchase rare, and not so rare,” I laughed as Claire held up a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey, “books. I’ve always loved reading, ye ken, and having a head for figures meant it made sense for me to run the shop.”

“I see,” she smiled, and my chest tightened. We looked at each other for a long moment before Claire dropped her gaze to the stacks of books around her.

“So, is there something that yer looking for, particularly?” I asked, taking a sip of coffee. “Medical texts, perhaps?”

“Yes and no,” she shrugged. “I have some medical books and journals. I’m more looking for history or archaeology or things like that.” She thought for a wee minute. “Or botany, perhaps. I’m an amateur herbalist as well.”

“Is there anything ye don’t ken?” I raised an eyebrow, teasing her. “Where did the interest in archaeology come from?”

“I was raised by my uncle, who was an archaeologist, and we spent most of my childhood traveling to digs or universities,” she smiled sadly, staring down at her lap. “He left most of his books to the university he was lecturing at when he died.”

“Och, I’m so sorry,” I reached out to rest a hand on her leg. “Do ye ken yer other family?”

“My parents died when I was 5,” she said, resting her hand on mine. “It’s just me now.”

“Yer an orphan too, then,” I smiled, squeezing her hand lightly. “My parents are both gone, as well. It’s just me, my sister Janet and Murtagh.”

She flashed a watery smile at me, and I had to stop myself from knocking everything out of the way and taking her in my arms.

We were both drawn out of our reverie at the sound of the bell on the shop door, and suddenly Claire looked uncomfortable.

“I should go,” she shook her head, setting the cup of coffee down. “Let me pay you for the coffees, please.”

“Och, dinna fash, Sassenach,” I shook my head, surprised at myself for calling her that. “Will ye join me for dinner tonight? There’s a great pub just a wee bit past yer building.”

“I-I-I can’t,” she jumped up, grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Jamie.”

She was gone before I could get another word out.

***

Claire:

_“Will ye join me for dinner tonight?”_

Jamie’s words were echoing around my head as I ran toward home, embarrassed at how I had handled the whole situation. Of course, he couldn’t have known the reason that I took a post in Scotland. The reason why Murtagh had thought my name was Randall, not Beauchamp.

I was a divorcee.

I shuddered at the word that now applied to me.

As a girl, I had always thought of myself as the type who would get married and spend every day of the rest of her life with the same man. Perhaps I was that girl, but the man I had married didn’t want to spend every day with me. Nor every night, either.

I had met Frank Randall at 18. He was a fellow at Oxford at the time, and I was staying in Oxford for a few months to complete some lab courses that I couldn’t fulfill online while traveling with Uncle Lamb. He was older, much older, but he made me feel loved, and soon we were inseparable.

Frank and I were married when I was 19 and he was 34. Uncle Lamb had stopped traveling, so we all settled in Oxford while I finished my undergraduate studies before medical school. When Lamb died suddenly, leaving me a true orphan, Frank cared for me and kept me going.

We left Oxford shortly after, and moved to Boston. I had been accepted to Harvard Medical School, and Frank was lecturing in the history department. But, something had changed. We weren’t as close as we had been in our Oxford bubble. Frank stayed out late, and when he was home, he was jealous of the people in my classes that I was spending time with. I could feel that we were growing apart, but I stayed faithful to him.

He did not stay faithful to me.

We divorced a few months before I finished residency, but I stayed in Boston until I was done, and then I came to Scotland.

After a few hours cooped up in my apartment, I thought that I should maybe attempt going shopping for kitchen utensils…and maybe some food, I thought to myself as my stomach growled.

I tripped as I walked out the door, confused by the small package on the mat outside my door. I untied the coarse string and unwrapped the brown paper as I turned back into the apartment and set my things down on the kitchen counter.

My stomach flipped as I realized that the package was from Jamie, and I poured over the books he sent. One was the copy of Gray’s Anatomy that I had been reading, but the other was a leather bound volume on the science of botany. Oh Jamie, I thought to myself as I opened the book, and a card slipped out. I bit my lip as I started to read.

_Sassenach,_

_I thought you’d like these to start yer own collection. I found a few more wee things about plants, should you like to come back to the shop and look._

_My apologies if I overstepped earlier, when I asked about your family. It’s rare you ken someone who understands what it’s like to lose their loved ones._

_I’ll be at the pub on the corner of your block tonight for a wee bit of supper, around 7:30. No pressure, but I would surely like to see you again._

_Best,_

_James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser_

My heart was racing when I finished reading Jamie’s note, and I was so torn. I hadn’t dated anyone since Frank, and I hadn’t wanted to. Jamie was…Jamie. He was unlike anything I had ever known, and I was afraid.

Maybe I would go, I thought to myself. If only to find out what ‘Sassenach’ meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love, guys! It's my first story so I'm grateful for any and all feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

Jamie:

I figured I would sit at the bar for a wee while before I ordered anything to eat, just in case Claire did decide to join me. No likely, I thought as I sighed to myself, catching a look from the bartender. I was nursing a glass of whiskey and tried to distract myself by spinning the glass slowly in my hands.

I furtively checked the door every few moments to make sure I wouldn’t miss her, if she even decided to come, but it was nearly quarter til 8. “She’s no comin’,” I said after a while, downing the last of my whiskey before pushing back my chair and standing up.

But when I turned towards the door, it opened and my eyes widened. Claire stepped inside, shaking back her windswept curls, before meeting my eyes. She smiled, and made her way across the crowded bar to where I stood.

“Claire,” I breathed, drinking in the sight of her bare shoulders showing in her shirt. “Ye look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” she blushed.

“I didna think ye were gonna show,” I said, as I pulled out a chair next to mine for her to sit.

“I had to,” she said seriously. “I have a question for you.”

“Ask away,” I said, with a smirk, while gesturing to the bartender for two more whiskeys.

“What in bloody hell is a Sassenach?” Claire said fiercely, smacking her hand on my arm.

I burst out laughing at her ferocity, clasping my hand over hers. “Sassenach means someone who’s not from here,” I explained, still smiling. “Like an outlander.”

“Is it Gaelic?” she asked, butchering the pronunciation.

“Ga-lic, lass,” I instructed. “And, yes, it is.” I watched her reach for the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of her, and she took a long sip. “So was that the only reason ye came?”

She eyeballed me for a moment. “I think you and I both know that it wasn’t,” she said, a flush rising in her cheeks.

“Well, should we get something to eat then?” I stood up before offering her my hand. “I do have a table reserved.”

Claire took my hand and stood. “Lead the way, Jamie.”

I nodded at the waiter, who led us over to a table in the back corner of the bar, somewhat secluded from the rest of the crowd. I helped Claire into her seat before sliding in across from her. My stomach felt tight, and I realized I was nervous.

“So,” I said, as I picked up my glass and started to fiddle with it again.

“So,” Claire repeated, a shy smile flitting across her lips.

“Why did ye choose to become a doctor?” I asked, desperate for something to start the conversation.

“I was desperate to spend as many years in school as possible,” Claire said, in a deadpan, and I laughed. “I had always felt called to be a healer, and spent most of my youth bandaging Uncle Lamb’s wounds, as well as other people on our expeditions.” She smiled, and I could see she was somewhere else. “I think I just liked being helpful, at first,” she shrugged, looking back at me again.

“I felt out of place and underfoot a lot when I was very young, but when I was 8 or 9, Uncle Lamb and I were in Northern Africa and I met a nurse there. She taught me a lot about medicine and healing, and about people,” Claire shook her head. “It was the first time I felt like myself again after losing my parents.”

“Ye were called to it from the beginning,” I replied.

“That’s what Lamb used to say,” she nodded. “I was born to heal.”

“Why did ye choose surgery, instead of opening a practice or something?” I was genuinely interested in her, and I think Claire was a little thrown off by it.

“Working in a hospital is exciting,” Claire replied. “There’s a certain electricity in the hustle and bustle that you don’t get in any other practice of medicine. Surgery just felt like the right thing for me.”

“I’ve never kent anyone who was a surgeon before,” I smiled, and she blushed. “I find it verra interesting.” I paused for a moment. “It’s a calling, for certain.”

“You mentioned this afternoon that you had spent time in France?” Claire asked, obviously keen to change the subject away from her. I decided I would let her, even though I had many more questions.

“Aye, I lived in Paris with a Fraser cousin for a few years,” I replied. “I studied Literature and History at the Sorbonne.”

“Really?” her eyes lit up, and she leaned in closer. “I have never been to Paris and have always wanted to go. What was it like?”

We spent the better part of the next two hours talking about traveling, and literature, and architecture, among other things. Claire surprised me by lapsing into French at one moment, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she recited poetry, and the flush of embarrassment across her cheeks when she came to a passage about love.

We paused our conversation only long enough to order dinner and wine, and then more wine. When we had finished our meal, we were both flushed from the copious amounts of wine we had drunk. I had trouble tearing my eyes away from Claire’s in my inebriated state, but I knew I needed to relax before I scared her away like I had that afternoon.

“Would ye like to go get a cup of coffee?” I asked.

“I would invite you to my apartment for coffee, but I don’t even have mugs yet, let alone coffee or a pot,” Claire let out a girlish giggle, and I could help but laugh myself.

“There’s a wee coffeehouse around the corner that would do the trick,” I replied, not letting myself think about the fact that Claire had imagined inviting me to her place.

“That sounds perfect,” she smiled.

I settled the bill with the waiter, to Claire’s great protest, before taking her hand again and leading her from the bar out into the street.

“Ooh, it’s chilly out now,” Claire rubbed her arms as we headed down the road, and I saw her shiver lightly.

“D’ye…” I felt like a young boy for a moment, unsure how to act around a lady as I tried to decide if I should offer Claire my arm or just put it around her.

“Yes,” she replied, knowing my question without my having to ask. She stepped under my arm and I pulled her close, trying to share my body heat and cover her bare shoulders. “You’re like a furnace, Jamie!” Claire slipped her hand between my leather jacket and my shirt, resting it on the small of my back.

“Aye, so I’ve been told,” I managed a laugh through the tightness in my chest. It wasn’t the only thing tightening, either. I tried to remind myself to relax, and that Claire and I weren’t even out on a date, just a friendly dinner, but certain parts of my body didn’t want to listen to that.

 

***

Claire:

My dinner out with Jamie was, by far, one of the best evenings I had in years, and it was still going on. We had laughed, talked and drank good wine, and more so- I had enjoyed myself without having to consider an ulterior motive, like I had with Frank.

Jamie seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. He asked intelligent questions about my childhood and my profession, and he paid attention when I spoke. I was the same with Jamie. He’d lived in Paris, and attended the Sorbonne! He spoke French perfectly, and I couldn’t help but swoon.

I knew that I was getting close to the line as we left the bar and walked to the coffee shop that Jamie knew. Slipping my hands inside his jacket had taken it a little too far, but he was so warm, and the wine had worn away my inhibitions.

“So, how has a strapping American lad not snapped ye up?” Jamie’s voice pulled me out of my reverie, and my stomach dropped.

“Um…” I felt my face go white as I looked up at him.

“Ye dinna have to tell me anything if yer no comfortable, Sassenach,” Jamie’s voice was soothing, and I felt him rub his thumb softly over my bare shoulder. “I didna mean to cross a line ye werena ready to cross.”

“It’s okay,” I swallowed forcefully. Jamie pulled me inside a small, dark coffeehouse and quickly found us a table. Once he had slid into the chair across from mine, I reached out to take one of his hands in both of mine. “I was…” I swallowed nervously as I concentrated on Jamie’s hand in mine. “I was married before I came to live here.”

“Ah,” Jamie said, a frown slipping over his features.

“I was 19 when we got married,” I started the story at the beginning. Jamie’s face was like a stone wall, his eyes downcast and refusing to meet mine.

At some point, two cups of coffee appeared at the edge of the table, but neither of us made a move to pick them up. It felt to me like if I dropped Jamie’s hand, that I wouldn’t be able to continue- and I wanted nothing more than to share my story with someone else.

“I was still Claire Randall when I started applied for the apartment,” I was nearing the end, but Jamie still hadn’t looked at me. “The divorce hadn’t been finalized, and I didn’t have any legal documents that said Claire Beauchamp.” I paused, shaking my head. “I think the paperwork for the hospital all has Claire Randall on it still, as well.”

My eyes rested on the furrow of Jamie’s brow for a long moment. “I’ve never told anyone the whole story of what happened,” Jamie’s hand tightened nearly imperceptibly and my stomach flipped. “I’m still not sure why I told you…but it felt good to say it all out loud.”

Jamie’s gaze flicked up to mine for the first time since we sat down at this tiny table, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “I’m glad ye told me, Sassenach,” his voice was low, but even with the noise around us, I could understand every syllable perfectly. “Ye didna have to,” he straightened up in his chair. “Ye dinna ken me from any stranger, but ye shared something sae personal wi’ me.” He shook his head. “Why did ye?”

“I feel I can trust you, Jamie,” the words flowed from my mouth, caused by a mixture of the wine we had drunk, and an indescribable feeling of safety in the presence of Jamie.

His eyes widened, and he took both my hands in his. “I willna forget that, Claire,” Jamie said seriously.

“I can’t see the future, Jamie,” I replied. “But I have a feeling that you and I met for a reason, and that you’ll be in my life for a long time.”

“I ken you’re right about that,” Jamie’s smile warmed me. “I kent it the moment ye set foot in the shop.”

Jamie and I spent the next hour listening to the Celtic folk singer in the corner of the coffeehouse, with Jamie translating the Gaelic so that I could understand them.

“Now this one is about a man out late on a fairy hill on the eve of Samhain, who hears the sound of a woman singing sad and plaintive from the very rocks of the hill,” he began. “I am a woman of Balnain, the folk have stolen me over again,’ the stones seemed to say. ‘I stood upon the hill and wind did rise, and the sound of thunder rolled across the land. I placed my hands upon the tallest stone and traveled to a far, distant land, where I lived for a time among strangers who became lovers and friends. But one day, I saw the moon come out, and the wind rose once more. So I touched the stones and traveled back to my own land and took up again with the man I had left behind.’”

“She traveled through…time?” I whispered, and Jamie nodded.

“It’s an auld wives tale, ye ken,” he smiled, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. “I dinna imagine it’s real.”

“Still, it’s fascinating,” I smiled, leaning in closer to him. “To think that someone came up with the story, and it has lasted all these hundreds of years.”

“The stories of the Highlands are like none other,” he smiled, before glancing down at his watch. “I best be getting you hame soon, aye?” The hour was later than I was accustomed to being out, especially since I was still adjusting to my new time zone, but I thought I had been successfully stifling my yawns from Jamie. “Ye look done in, Sassenach.”

“I thought I was disguising it well,” I smiled, and another yawn overtook me. “But you’re right, I should be heading home.”

I stopped Jamie from paying the bill, reminding him that he had paid for our dinner, and that covering the cost of our coffees and a shared chocolate croissant was the least I could do in repayment of the brilliant evening we had shared. It was difficult not to glare at the young server as she looked Jamie up and down, taking in every inch of his resplendent form, but I reminded myself that he was not mine, and I couldn’t be jealous.

Jamie pulled me close and tucked me under his arm as we headed back up the street towards my new Scottish home, and that feeling of warmth and safety washed over me again.

“Ye ken, I never thought tae ask ye how old ye are, Sassenach?” Jamie blurted out suddenly, pulling back to look down at me for a moment.

“Ye ken,” I imitated him, and he laughed, “that it’s not appropriate to ask a lady her age?”

“Aye, my mother did teach me a few things,” Jamie winked. “But I’ll ask ye anyway.”

“I’m 27,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“Oh,” he raised his eyebrows, nodding. “I thought ye were about my age, or younger.”

“And how old would that be, Mr. Fraser?” I tightened my grip on his waist as we walked.

“I’m 23,” he grinned down at me. “My birthday was a week ago, last.”

“Happy belated,” I smiled up at him. “And thank you for thinking I’m 5 years younger than I am.” I laughed softly. “That would make me more Doogie Howser than respectable surgeon.”

Jamie threw back his head in laughter, and I relished in the sound. The walk to my apartment seemed much too short, and I found myself desperately grasping at straws to find a reason to invite him in, simply so that I could spend more time with him.

Ever the gentleman, Jamie held the door open for me and we both walked into the lobby of the small apartment building I called home. “I keep trying to think of reasons to invite you upstairs, but I really don’t even own coffee mugs,” I smiled up at him, my arm still wrapped around his waist. “I wasn’t exaggerating earlier.”

“I canna go up wi’ ye anyway, Sassenach,” Jamie said as he extricated himself from my embrace. “I wouldna be able to stop myself, and ye deserve proper courting.”

“Courting?” I blushed, trying to block out the first part of his reply. “Did we fall through the stones, like the woman in the song earlier?”

“Aye, maybe we did,” he smiled. “My mobile number is on the back of the card I sent ye with the books earlier.” He paused, and we shared a smile. “Call me tomorrow, aye?”

“I will,” I promised. Jamie pulled me into a tight embrace, and for a moment, I thought I felt his lips brush the top of my hair, but it happened so quickly that I thought I might’ve imagined it.

I watched him walk to the door, and he was halfway out before I spoke again. “Jamie?” he turned to look back at me. “Tonight was the best night I’ve had in years.”

“Tonight might’ve been the best night I’ve ever had, Sassenach,” he smiled, and before I could respond, slipped out the door and into the night.

I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as I climbed the three flights of stairs, unlocked my apartment, shed my clothes and climbed into bed. Jamie Fraser truly was unlike any other.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys :) so sorry it's been so long since I posted a chapter, life has been a crazy mess. thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Jamie:

Saturday was usually a busy day at the shop, but of course, the one day I didn’t want to be left alone with my thoughts of Claire, the shop was damn near empty.

“Mrs. Crook?” I called through the empty shop as the clock in the corner struck noon. “I think ye can head home, I’ll manage the rest of the afternoon.”

“Are ye sure, Jamie?” her white haired head appeared around the end of an aisle after a minute. “I don’t mind staying.”

“Aye, go hame and relax,” I waved her off. “I dinna think it will be getting busy the day.”

“Well, call me if ye need help, _mo ghràidh_ ,” she said, patting my hand as she came past, her purse already on her arm. “I’ll see ye on Monday.”

“Enjoy the weekend, Mrs. Crook,” I called as she exited the shop.

I tried to focus on some of the bookkeeping and things I had told Laoghaire I was planning on doing the night before, but I couldn’t stop thinking of the way Claire’s brown hair caught the flicker of candlelight while we were having dinner.

“Focus, lad,” I grumbled to myself, picking up my pen again, and starting to tally the receipts piled next to me.

The sound of the door flying open and slamming closed made me jump and reach for the dirk I kept fastened to the base of the counter, but I relaxed slightly when Laoghaire stomped around the corner into sight. I realized quickly that relaxing hadn’t been the best idea.

“So, I came here looking for ye last night,” the lass sneered, and I tried to control my urge to roll my eyes. “Imagine my surprise when I found the place locked up tight, and no a light on in sight?”

“I took things hame to work,” I replied. “The chair here is no verra comfortable.”

“Ye lying pig!” she spat. “When I didna find ye here, I went tae yer place, and banged on the door for ten minutes and YE DIDNA ANSWER!” Her shrieks filled the shop, and suddenly I was grateful for sending Mrs. Crook home. “Yer auld neighbor, Mrs. Bug, came out after a wee while te tell me ye had stopped hame for a minute and then left again, hours afore I arrived.”

When I didn’t offer an explanation, I could feel her anger level rise. “Do ye not even want to try and explain where ye were, Jamie?” Laoghaire cried. “Do ye even care for me at all?”

“I was out wi’ a friend, Laoghaire,” I replied, trying to keep my temper even. “I dinna have to tell ye every time I go anywhere. Last I checked, we werena wed.”

“Aye, but I thought we would be,” she had tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ll ask ye again, Jamie Fraser- do ye even care for me at all?”

I paused. “I care for ye, Laoghaire, but not in the way ye wish,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, lass, I kent ye wished we would be together forever, but we willna.”

She bristled at my words. “Yer gonna live to regret those words, James Fraser,” she said, turning to head for the door. “I ken yer leaving me for another, and she will live to regret it as well.”

“Dinna go anywhere near any lass I ever date, Laoghaire MacKenzie,” I marched out from behind the counter and stopped her from leaving. “Hate me all ye like, but dinna blame any lass for the fact that I couldna love ye.”

I wasn’t surprised when I felt the sting of her hand across my cheek, and I watched her storm out of the shop, leaving the door hanging open in her wake. I was better off without Laoghaire MacKenzie in my life, no matter how many problems it might cause with my MacKenzie cousins.

I blew out a long breath as I stepped back behind the counter and dragged a hand through my long hair. Nothing like a little excitement to enliven an afternoon.

My mind settled quickly after the fight with Laoghaire, and the eventual buzzing of my phone felt almost like an unwelcome interruption…until I read the text.

 

**Unknown**

_Would it be too forward of me to ask you when we can hang out again? Because last night really was so much fun._

 

I grinned as I typed out a response to Claire.

 

**Jamie Fraser**

_Did no one warn you about too much of a good thing? I dinna want to turn you into a party girl, Sassenach._

 

**Claire Beauchamp**

_I hardly think that is possible at my advanced age, Mr. Fraser. If you are concerned about having too much fun…would you be willing to come over and help me put together some Ikea furniture? After reading the instructions, it seems that no fun could be had_ _L_

 

**Jamie Fraser**

_As long as you supply the pizza and beer, I’m in, Sassenach. Though we might need some whiskey for after_.

 

**Claire Beauchamp**

_You’ve got yourself a deal, Fraser. When are you free?_

 

**Jamie Fraser**

_How about tonight, Sassenach? I’m closing up shop around 4, I can come straight there._

 

**Claire Beauchamp**

_You are a godsend, James Fraser. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise._

 

**Jamie Fraser**

_Ach we’ll see about that :P_

 

I stuck my phone into my jeans pocket, suddenly filled with excitement. It took all the willpower I had to stop myself from closing up shop right then and there and running the few blocks over to Claire’s apartment.

“Delayed gratification, Fraser,” I said aloud to the empty shop. Better get cracking on the work, then.

 

***

 

I flipped the sign on the door to ‘closed’ right as the clock in the corner of the shop struck 4, but it didn’t matter. I’d seen a grand total of 5 customers the whole day, anyway.

I felt strange going to Claire’s apartment empty handed, so I spent a few minutes browsing through the history shelves, looking for a particular volume to wrap up and bring to her, with the bottle of Laophraig Single Malt I’d found in my office. I also was trying not to seem too over eager and arrive on her doorstep just a few minutes after 4pm, but I knew I would rush to get there as soon as I could once I had located the book.

“Aha,” I grinned as I pulled the volume from the shelf and hurried back to the counter. I scribbled out a brief message on a notecard and stuffed it in the front cover before wrapping the book in brown paper and twine.

By the time I had finished my final checks and locked up, it was nearly 4:30, so I hustled out the door and hopped in my car, eager to see Claire.

 

***

 

Claire:

Saturday had been a busy and productive day, even though it took me a while to get started in the morning. I had woken with a plan to ask Jamie to come and help me put together the furniture for my apartment that lay in boxes in my living room, but I knew that I had to have more in my fridge than a few bottles of water to offer him.

I spent the morning shopping for cutlery, dinnerware, glasses, and cookware, as well as the small appliances I might require, i.e. a coffeemaker. Once I had returned my spoils to the apartment, I headed back out, knowing I now had to supply food and drink to be consumed off the plates and glasses I now possessed.

I had never been much of cook in all the years Frank and I lived together. I could make tea and coffee, and a small selection of breakfast items, but beyond that, I was lost. I knew cooking would be another skill I now had to master. While Frank and I had separated before I left Boston, I had lived with a friend while we both completed our residencies. My new home in Scotland was the first one I had ever been in alone.

I stocked up on beer and wine, as well as foods I knew I could attempt without burning down the building. If Jamie did come to help me though, I wasn’t going to force him to eat my cooking. Takeout would have to suffice.

By early afternoon, I had stocked my fridge and my cabinets, and I stood in my nearly empty living room. Jamie had accepted my invitation and was coming over a few hours later to help me put my furniture together. As strange as it felt, I knew I would have to ask Jamie to start with my bed, since I wasn’t sure how much longer my poor back could take sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

As the clock on my phone showed 4pm, I found myself nervously pacing around the apartment. Jamie was on his way, or would be shortly, and I knew I would find myself in close quarters with this man who electrified me in a way I had never known before.

Eventually I cracked open a beer to try and calm my nerves as I waited for Jamie.

I was reorganizing the clothes in my closet when I heard the knock at the door, and I dropped the sweater I was holding as I quickly headed out of the bedroom.

“Hi,” I grinned up at Jamie as I flung open the door to find him standing there, hair tousled from the wind. “Come in.”

“I brought ye a wee something,” he said, handing me a brown paper bag as he crossed the threshold into my apartment.

“Jamie, you didn’t have to!” I headed toward the kitchen counter, smiling at him over my shoulder. “You’re helping me out, I should be the one giving you a gift.”

“Dinner and your company is more than enough for me,” he said, coming to stand next to me.

“Jamie,” I breathed as I pulled the bottle of Laophraig Single Malt from the bag. “This is a really expensive bottle of Scotch.”

“Aye, and we’ll toast to yer new life with it together,” he smiled. “Ye deserve something to celebrate with.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” I set the bottle down and turned to give him a hug.

“There’s something else in there,” Jamie said gruffly, giving me a brief, but tight, squeeze.

I eyeballed him before turning back to the bag, and pulled a slim volume wrapped in brown paper. I undid the twine bow and unwrapped the paper as I felt Jamie’s eyes on my face, watching for my reaction.

The volume that lay inside the paper had a plain cover, clearly worn from many years of use. I took the book in my hands and opened it to see what was inside, and I gasped when I realized what Jamie had presented me with.

“The Canon of Medicine?” my voice shook as I turned my face up to look into Jamie’s. The Canon of Medicine was a 10th Century medical encyclopaedia written in Persia. I had only ever seen one copy before- in a museum. “Jamie, where did you get this?”

“I found it in a shop in France many years ago,” he grinned. “Cost me a Euro, since the owner had no idea what treasure he had.” Jamie reached to turn the page, showing me the printing information, and I gasped again. “It was printed in 1735.”

“Jamie, I can’t accept this,” I took one of his hands in mine. “This is too much!”

“There’s no one I’d rather see have this book, Sassenach,” Jamie said, reaching out to tuck an escaped curl behind my ear. “You’ll treat it well.”

I set it down on the counter before turning to wrap my arms tightly around Jamie’s waist. “Thank you,” I murmured as his large hands rested on my back.

“So, it’s furniture we’re putting together tonight?” Jamie said, clearing his throat as he stepped back from me.

“Yes,” I blushed. “I’m sleeping on a mattress on the floor at the moment, so things are rather desperate.”

“Aye, I’d say so,” he laughed. “D’ye have tools and things?”

“I have a hammer and two screwdrivers,” I shrugged. “I hope that will be enough.”

“Aye, if it’s no, I’ve some things in my truck,” Jamie nodded.

Jamie and I fell into an easy rhythm as we moved around the apartment. I was confident of the few things I could put together on my own, so I asked that we concentrate on the bed frame, the chest of drawers for my bedroom, and the desk I had planned to put in the corner of my living room. He didn’t hesitate to tease me about my lack of knowledge or handy-ness, but he also made me feel like I was helpful to him.

Because it was nearly summer in the Highlands, the sun didn’t set until very late in the evening, which meant that I didn’t notice as the hour drew later. When I glanced at the watch on my wrist, I gasped.

“Oh, Jamie, you must be starving!” I whirled around to look at him, where he sat on the floor of my bedroom. “It’s already half seven!”

“Aye, I could eat,” he grinned.

“Would you like a beer?” I pressed, pulling my phone from my pocket so I could call the pizza shop around the corner. “I also have wine and a small assortment of non-alcoholic beverages.”

“A beer would hit the spot, I imagine,” he heaved himself up to a standing position as I put the phone to my ear and walked out of the room.

I pulled two beers from the fridge and popped the top on both of them, turning to hand one to Jamie, who had followed me into the kitchen. I gestured for him to sit down on the couch in the living room, but he waved me off, leaning against the counter next to me, instead.

“Is there anything specific you like on your pizza?” I covered the mouthpiece of the phone with my hand and looked up at Jamie.

“Sauce,” he smirked. “Cheese. Pepperoni, maybe.”

“Smartass,” I bumped his hip with mine, before placing an order for two medium pies, one pepperoni and one cheese. Whatever was left could be my lunch or dinner the following day.

“Okay, twenty minutes until dinner,” I told him once I had ended the call and set my phone on the counter.

“I think we can manage until then,” Jamie grinned, raising his bottle to clink it against mine. “To yer new home, Sassenach. May ye live in it with love and happiness. Slàinte.”

“Slahn-shuh,” I repeated, and Jamie laughed. “I could have just said ‘fuck off’ for all I know,” I giggled.

“Slàinte is a toast to yer health, Sassenach,” he replied. “Focáil leat would be ‘fuck off,’ as ye said.”

“I’m not even going to attempt to repeat that,” I giggled. “I’ll stick to the English version, thanks very much.”

“Yer a Scot now,” Jamie nudged me with his elbow. “Ye really should work on yer Gaelic.”

“Mebbe I should start wi’ a Scottish accent, ye ken,” Jamie fell about laughing as I spoke. “Hey, I’m trying!”

“Ye sound like ye’ve a stick shoved up yer arse,” Jamie’s laugh spread like wildfire, and soon we were both clutching each other and giggling. “Ach,” he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “We’ll make ye a true Scot someday, Sassenach.”

“Not bloody likely,” there was still a trace of a giggle in my words as I was having a harder time controlling myself than Jamie was.

He took my hand and pulled me into the living room, and we both sat down on the couch. “Ye told me yesterday why you were here in Scotland, Claire,” Jamie said eventually. “But ye never said why ye chose Scotland in the first place.”

“You mean why I chose to move here?” I asked, and Jamie nodded. I was quiet for a long moment, and I saw Jamie open his mouth to speak. “No, I’ll tell you,” I answered his unsaid comment. “I thought about moving back to Oxford,” I began. “There were still people I knew in the area and at the university from when I was in school and when I lived there with…Frank.” I shook my head. “But I wanted a new beginning. I wanted my own adventure. My med school professors pressured me to stay in America, and sent me offers for jobs in New York, Chicago, California and other places. I went for interviews, but none of them felt like the right fit for me,” I looked into Jamie’s eyes, a small smile at his lips. “I visited Scotland as a girl, with my uncle.”

“Ye didna tell me that,” he replied.

“It was a long time ago,” I said, thinking of the trip we had taken when I was maybe 6 or 7. “It was one of the first, if not **the** first, trips that we went on together. We went to Inverness to see an old colleague of Lamb’s and he wrote a paper on a ring of standing stones in the area.” I frowned as I tried to remember the name.

“Craigh Na Dun,” Jamie helpfully supplied.

“Yes!” I said. “I didn’t much care for the place,” I shuddered lightly, and Jamie rested one warm hand on my arm. “It gave me the willies, to be quite honest with you.”

“It is a strange place,” Jamie agreed. “But if ye didna like Scotland, then why take this post?”

“No, that’s the thing,” I shook my head. “I loved Scotland. I loved the fresh, clean air, and the green, rolling countryside. I tried to convince Lamb to move to Scotland so that we could stay, and I could live there forever, but we couldn’t.”

“So when ye had the chance, ye came back,” Jamie murmured.

“Yes,” I smiled. “This is the first time in my life that I can forge my own path. I can choose what my next step is. It’s the first time I picked out my own furniture,” I giggled, and Jamie shook his head. “Scotland has always called to me, and now I get to call it home.”

The knock at the door startled Jamie and I both, and I leapt up after a minute. I pulled open the door to find a pimple-faced teenager holding two pizzas.

“It’s £18, ma’am,” he said, no form of greeting or anything.

“Alright,” I took the boxes and handed them to Jamie, who was hulking behind me. I pulled a small wad of cash from the back pocket of my jeans, peeled off a £20 note, and handed it to the boy. “Thank you!”

“Aye,” he said, shoving it in his pocket and turning away.

“Mr. Manners,” I quipped as I shut the door behind me and Jamie smiled as he set the boxes on the kitchen counter.

“Carefully, Granny Claire,” he teased. “Dinna want to make yerself sound older than ye already are.”

“No pizza for you then,” I pulled the boxes back towards me and Jamie laughed and changed his tune.

“Ye dinna look a day over 22,” he promised.

“Flatterer,” I rolled my eyes, reaching for a steaming slice of pizza from the box Jamie had opened. We leaned over the counter for a few minutes, chomping on pizza. “I wonder if I’ll ever turn the stove on,” I idly looked over my shoulder. “Maybe I’ll just store sweaters in there, or something.”

“Dinna tell me ye cannae cook, Claire,” Jamie groaned.

“I can make pasta,” I said, defensively. “And I can boil potatoes. And I can make eggs!”

“Ye mean to tell me that ye can cut people open and fix their insides, but ye cannae cook a wee piece of meat?” Jamie’s eyebrows rose.

“I cut people open and heal them, not cook them and eat them, Jamie,” I rolled my eyes. “You don’t learn much cooking around a campfire with a bunch of old men, other than how to make beans in a can.”

“I didna mean to imply ye eat people,” he chuckled. “But how will ye feed yersel’ if yer living alone?”

“I’ll get along,” I shrugged, gesturing towards the fridge. Jamie opened it and peered inside, before opening the freezer door as well.

“Seems yer handy wi’ the microwave, then,” he sighed.

“I’ll keep myself alive,” I shrugged. “Takeaways are always a good option as well.”

“Ach,” he shut the freezer door and reached for another slice of pizza. Jamie leaned down over the counter, resting on his elbow, his face only inches from my own.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping me, Jamie,” I said after a long moment of looking into his eyes. “I wouldn’t have been able to do all of this by myself.”

“Nay bother, Sassenach,” he smiled, reaching out to take my free hand in his. “I might as well make myself useful.”

“You’ve been more than useful,” I shook my head. “You…” I blushed. “I needed a friend, and I couldn’t be happier that it was you, Jamie.”

Jamie didn’t say anything, but his fingers twitched against mine, almost imperceptibly. He had become exactly what I needed.

 

***

 

Jamie:

I didn’t know what to say to Claire. The look in her eye made me want to take her into my arms and kiss her fiercely, but Claire had just thanked me for being her friend. I had said to her the night before that I wanted to court her properly, but if all Claire wanted was friendship, then that was what I would give her.

“Should we get back to work, Sassenach?” I said, after a moment, and her face faltered. “Yer done eating?”

“Yes,” she pulled her hand away and stood up, closing the pizza boxes and walking behind me to put them in the fridge. “Do you want another beer?”

“Aye, might as well,” I accepted the bottle she handed me, and I noticed that Claire didn’t meet my eyes.

I followed Claire back to her bedroom, biting back a groan at the sight of her round arse in her tight jeans. We spent the next hour or so in relative silence, and I couldn’t help but compare it to the time we spent before dinner, talking and laughing. A chill had settled over Claire, and I didn’t know how to thaw her.

“We don’t have to finish this tonight, Jamie,” she said eventually. We were about three-quarters of the way through building her chest of drawers, and I knew if we stopped, it would be difficult to come back and pick it up again.

“It’s no that late,” I smiled. “I think we can finish.”

“Jamie…” Claire’s voice trailed off.

“I dinna ken what happened exactly in the kitchen, Claire,” I said quickly. “I didna mean to upset ye or insult ye in any way. The gift of yer friendship is one that I treasure.”

“But?” she questioned, and I continued.

“But it’s more than friendship I feel for ye, lass,” I said simply. “And if that line isna one ye’d like to cross, then that is all I need te hear. If ye say so, I willna bring it up again.”

Claire fidgeted, peeling the label on the beer bottle she held in her hands. “I’m- I’m afraid, Jamie,” she said softly, eyes shining with tears. “If I say yes to you, as I so desperately want to, and it doesn’t go well, not only would I lose someone I want to be with, but I would lose my only friend.”

“It willna go badly, lass,” I rose up on my knees, setting down the bottle in Claire’s hands and taking her hands in mine. “Ye are the one that I want tae be wi’, Claire. No one else.”

“Jamie,” she whispered, raising a hand to sweep the hair from my forehead.

I snaked a hand around Claire’s waist and pulled her flush to me as she turned her face up towards mine. She captured my lips in a kiss and I groaned into her slightly. I sat back on my heels as Claire straddled me, never pulling her lips from mine.

My hand slipped inside Claire’s shirt and up her bare back, my fingers tracing a light pattern as she whimpered. She tugged on my shirt, untucking it from my jeans, and undoing the buttons as quickly as she could, all while I kissed a line down her jaw.

Claire pushed my shirt off my shoulders, exposing my chest as she leaned down and sucked a mark where my neck met my shoulder. She ran her fingers down my chest and reached for my belt buckle, trying to pry it loose, but I reached a hand in to stop her.

“Claire,” I panted, pulling back from her. “Stop, Sassenach.”

“What?” she frowned, back arched to meet my hand. “Why?”

“I canna…” I gestured toward where her hands had been.

She skirted back from me, straightening her shirt. “You…can’t?”

“Well, I would imagine I can,” I smirked as I realized what she thought I meant. “I’d quite like to at the moment.”

“Jamie, I don’t understand what you mean,” Claire had a strange look on her face.

“Would it bother ye if I said I was a virgin?” my cheeks flushed red and Claire’s eyes widened slightly.

“I-I- it…huh,” she stuttered. “It doesn’t bother me, per se. It does surprise me, though.”

“Aye, weel, I’ve te keep ye on yer toes somehow,” I smiled.

“So…you, what, want to wait?” Claire frowned.

“I’ve waited this long,” I shrugged. “Abstinence makes the heart grow firmer, aye?”

Claire blinked at me for a moment, before falling apart into laughter. “Absence,” she giggled. “And fonder! If anything’s growing firmer from abstinence, it won’t be your heart.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, and I laughed with her.

“Aye, well that too,” I smiled as she wiped tears from her cheeks. “Marriage doesna feel too long off now, so I may as well wait.”

“If that’s what you want,” Claire agreed, nodding. She leaned forward and pressed a long slow kiss to my lips. “You better put your shirt back on then, Fraser, before I get any ideas about stealing away your honor.”

Her comment surprised me, and I barked a laugh, pulling Claire in close, kissing up her neck between laughs. “Ye are like no other woman I’ve ever kent,” I professed.

“And don’t you forget it,” she replied. “Now,” she set her hands on my shoulders. “I think I need some of that whiskey you brought over.”

“Aye, I could use a wee dram,” I agreed, helping Claire stand before slipping my arms back inside my shirt. I did up the buttons as I followed her out of the room, not bothering to tuck it back into my jeans.

Claire pulled out two glasses and opened the bottle, pouring a fair bit into each glass. She handed me a glass and raised her own. “To…” she paused. “To whatever this is.”

“Slàinte,” I replied, raising mine. We stood for a few minutes in silence, sipping at our glasses. “I think I should probably finish yer chest another day,” my face flushed as I realized what I said. “I mean, yer chest of drawers!” Claire fell about with peals of laughter. “Ach,” I slugged the rest of the whiskey down, feeling the momentary burn in my chest.

“Tomorrow, or sometime this week,” Claire finally said, swallowing her laughter. “I can’t thank you enough, Jamie.”

“Nay bother, Sassenach,” I took her glass from her and set it on the table next to us, before I pulled her into my arms. “Nay bother at all.”

Her lips curled into a smile as they met mine, and I didn’t think I could be happier than I was in that moment.


	5. Chapter 5

Claire:

Jamie and I spent every moment together we could over the following weeks before I started work. We ate at local restaurants, or cooked together at one of our apartments (Jamie cooked, I watched), or we explored Edinburgh. He took me on a tour of Holy Rood, and Edinburgh Castle, and climbed Arthur’s Seat, much to my behest and Jamie’s excitement. Some days I would just come to _The Printshop_ , settle into a chair in a corner, and read while Jamie worked.

At the end of a long day together, we would climb into bed, and Jamie would hold me as we slept. I wanted to do more, and sometimes it was hard not to throw myself at Jamie, but I respected his wishes. Jamie was a man of strong convictions, and his wishes to do things the ‘old way’ were surprisingly refreshing. Case in point- Jamie’s insistence on doing the books for the shop by hand.

“Ifrinn!” he barked, smacking his hand down on the counter, making me jump and sending a stack of receipts flying. “Sorry, Sassenach,” he muttered over his shoulder.

“You do know that they make great computer programs to take care of all of this, right?” I said, gesturing at the fluttering papers at his feet. “It would make your life that much easier.”

“Ach, away wi’ ye,” he grumbled, gathering the sheaf of papers. “This is how the Frasers have always done it, and so will I.”

“And what happens when you open the other locations?” I said demurely, and Jamie frowned. “You can’t possibly keep up with everything by yourself by hand, Jamie.”

Jamie had filled me in on his plans for expanding the scope of _The Printshop_ , including opening another location in Edinburgh, as well as locations in Glasgow, Inverness and potentially in some of the smaller seaside towns. I thought it was a great idea, and I knew that Jamie would be great at managing a business like that.

I stood from the chair I was occupying and went to stand behind Jamie, winding my arms around his chest and resting my cheek on his back. “You need a centralized system that the manager of each shop can input everything into for tracking,” I said. I felt Jamie stiffen, and hastened to correct myself. “You don’t need to do anything, it’s merely a suggestion. Just trying to be helpful,” I said sheepishly, pulling away from him.

“I ken ye mean well, Sassenach,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “And perhaps yer right, perhaps it would be easier.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I dinna ken how to do any of this.”

“Maybe you need to find a business consultant?” I shrugged. “I know you can do it, Jamie. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask for help.”

“Aye,” he nodded, before capturing my lips in a kiss. “Dinna ken what I’d do wi’out ye, Claire.”

“You’d manage, I’m sure,” I pressed a kiss to his forehead before extricating myself from his arms. “You want some coffee?”

“I’d love a cup,” he smiled, and I headed toward the back of the shop to the small tearoom.

Mrs. Crook was elbow deep in dough in the kitchen when I popped my head in. “Can I help you, Mrs. Crook?” I offered.

“Nay, lass,” she smiled. “There’s a fresh pot of coffee on the counter and some scones about to come out of the oven.”

“Raisin?” I asked, hopefully, and she laughed. “I’m nothing if not predictable, Mrs. Crook.”

“Aye, lass, that ye are,” she shook her head. “What was Jamie gettin’ fashed about?”

“Balancing the books,” I replied, pulling two mugs out from the private store and pouring myself a cup of coffee. “You know he wants to expand, but he just doesn’t quite have a plan in place yet.”

She nodded, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face. “It’s good he found ye, Claire,” she said after a moment. “The lass he was dating before was nice enough, but he needs a woman.”

“I’m glad I found him as well, Mrs. Crook,” I smiled into my mug as the timer bleated next to the stove. I slid my hands into the worn oven gloves Mrs. Crook had on the counter and pulled two trays of scones out, setting them on the racks on the counter.

I piled a tray with scones, butter, jam and coffee for both of us, before heading back out to Jamie. I froze when I saw the look on his face.

“What are you doing here?” he bit out, eyes on someone I couldn’t see. I took a few steps forward, and my eyes landed on a pretty girl with long, blonde hair. She couldn’t have been more than 20 or 21, and I could see by the look in her eye that she wanted Jamie.

“Jamie?” I said, trying to remind him that I was standing there. His head snapped up, and his eyes softened as they locked on mine. I set the tray down on the counter and scooted past the girl, her anger growing more palpable by the second, and joined Jamie.

“So ye didna leave me for another, right?” she scoffed. “Yer a lying pig, James Fraser.”

Jamie said her name with a sigh, and between that and the Gaelic, I didn’t quite catch it. “I didna cheat on ye, and ye ken that,” he continued. “I told ye the last time, it isna anyone else’s fault that I didna love ye, it’s only mine.”

“I hate ye, Jamie!” she bellowed, reaching out to strike him.

“Hey!” I cried, stepping between them. “You need to leave now. Neither Jamie nor I want you here.”

“A sassenach?” she spat, looking at Jamie with a horrified look on her face. “Ye’d choose a sassenach over me?”

“I didna choose her,” he said her name again, and it sounded like Lheery. “She chose me. I’m sorry, lass, I think ye should go.”

She turned on her heel and ran from the shop, and Jamie sagged against the counter slightly.

“So, that was exciting,” I said after a moment. “What was her name?”

“Laoghaire,” he said. I repeated it, and he nodded. “We used to…”

“Date,” I supplied helpfully. “I had figured that much out on my own, actually.” Jamie sat down and I reached across him to take my coffee cup and a plate with a warm scone on it. “Are you going to explain whatever that was, or am I just going to have to fill in the blanks on my own?”

“Ah,” he flushed, reaching for his own coffee. “Laoghaire is a MacKenzie.” I recognized the last name, knowing Jamie was of MacKenzie blood. “We’re no related, if that’s what yer thinking,” he said, eyeing me.

“I said nothing of the sort,” I kept my face as smooth as I could, sitting down in the armchair I had been occupying earlier.

“I’ve kent her since I was a lad,” he said, eyes closing. “She grew up not far from Lallybroch, but I never paid much mind te her. Found her annoying mostly,” he looked at me briefly. “A cousin, Rupert MacKenzie, told her I was in Edinburgh and set us up, in a way.” He shrugged. “I didna care ower much for the lass, but I treated her well when we were together.”

“Treated her well,” I snorted.

“Claire,” Jamie said seriously. “Ye canna possibly think that I did anything wi’ Laoghaire. We went on maybe 5 dates, and I never did anything but kiss the lass.” Jamie’s eyes were boring into mine, and I knew he was telling me the truth. “I swear it, Claire.”

I tried to keep a straight face, but eventually melted with a sigh. “There’s no need, Jamie,” I shook my head. “I believe you.” I stood up and crossed the small space between us, and Jamie wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my stomach. “I’m sorry.”

“Dinna apologize, Sassenach,” he chuckled dryly. “I hope I never meet an ex of yours.”

“I think that would be wise,” I carded a hand through his hair, and Jamie laughed.

 “Ye amaze me, Sassenach,” a brilliant smile bloomed across Jamie’s face, and suddenly my whole body felt warm.

“Yes, well,” I pulled away, flustered.

“Hey Jamie,” we both jumped at the sound of Angus’ voice.

“Angus, man,” Jamie jumped up and shook his employee’s hand. “Is it 1 o’clock already?”

“Aye,” he smiled at me, and I waved. “What are you lot up to the day?”

“I start work on Monday, so we just want to relax,” I smiled, picking up my purse.

“Thanks for coming in today, mate,” Jamie shook Angus’ hand before reaching for my hand. “I appreciate it.”

“Dinna fash, man,” Angus waved him off and Jamie and I headed for the door. “Enjoy!”

Jamie and I walked hand in hand back to my apartment in relative silence, enjoying the sunshine and lovely weather we were experiencing. I could feel the slight…awkwardness between us, and I knew that it was because I was starting work on Monday. Everything was going to change for us now because we won’t be able to spend as much time together, and I could feel that was weighing on us both.

Jamie went straight to the kitchen to make us some lunch, and I sat at the counter, watching him, occasionally leaning in for a kiss as he cooked. Even when we were doing nothing, I enjoyed simply being in Jamie’s presence.

After lunch, Jamie joined me on the couch and pulled my legs up onto his lap.

“So, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Jamie’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at me.

“We probably should,” I smiled. “I love being a doctor, but I’m not looking forward to starting work on Monday.”

“Aye, I canna say I’m pleased you’re starting either,” Jamie agreed. “But it doesna mean we will never see each other.”

“I know, but-“ I started, but Jamie cut me off with a shake of his head.

“We’ll find a way, Claire,” he smiled. “We always do.”

 

***

 

Jamie:

I could have been happy if I never moved again. Claire was lying against me on the couch on Sunday afternoon, her head resting on my chest and my arms wrapped tightly around her. It was quiet, but the silence between us was comfortable.

The sound of my phone ringing dragged us both out of our cocoon, and there was a rush of air between us as Claire leaned forward to grab it from the table to hand it to me.

“Ian?” I frowned as I put it to my ear. Claire settled back against me and picked up her book.

“Jamie!” I could hear the happiness in Ian’s voice. “I’m gonnae be in Edinburgh this week, lad!”

“Aye, wonderful!” I smiled. “I’ll make up the spare bed for ye. What are ye comin’ for?”

“Just some bank meetings,” he said. “Can I meet yer new lass?”

“Aye,” I blushed, glancing down at Claire’s curly head in front of me. “And what will Jenny say when she finds out?”

“Ach, dinna fash,” he laughed. “How’s the expansion plan going?”

“Mmphmm,” I snorted.

“Aye, that good?” Ian laughed again. “How about I take a wee peek at yer plans while I’m there?”

“Aye, that sounds good,” I agreed.

“I’ll see ye on Tuesday, Jamie,” he said quickly. “Wee Jamie’s making a break for it, gotta go!”

Ian hung up before I could respond, and I laughed, shaking my head.

“Who was that?” Claire craned her neck back to look at me.

“My brother-in-law, Ian,” I smiled, brushing her hair back from her face. “He’s coming to Edinburgh for a few days and he’s gonna stay wi’ me.”

“Oh, that’s lovely, Jamie,” she smiled, settling back against me.

“He’d like to meet ye,” I said, and I felt her freeze.

“Really?” she sat up and I saw her swallow nervously.

“Aye,” I smiled. “And I’d like ye to meet him as well.”

She was quiet for a moment before breaking into a small smile. “I guess that would be okay,” she nodded. “When does he arrive?”

“Tuesday,” I replied, pulling Claire back into me. “I dinna ken when he’ll be leaving, but I’d guess Friday.”

“Well, maybe Wednesday evening for dinner, then?” she said. “I’m working a day shift then, so I shouldn’t have a problem.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Ian,” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad ye can meet him, Sassenach. Ian and I’ve been friends since we were bairns, and ye ken he married my sister, Jenny.”

“I’m happy I get to meet someone who is important to you, Jamie,” Claire turned to smile at me.

I leaned in to kiss her quickly and grinned as Claire’s cheeks flushed pink.

 

***

 

Having Ian around was always a comfort, because he brought something of home with him. It was even more comforting this week because I went from spending all my time with Claire to not spending any time with her, so Ian served as a distraction of sorts.

Ian was off doing business during the day, so Wednesday was really the first time we had a chance to talk since his arrival late on Tuesday evening. We were due to meet Claire at a pub near the hospital, so Ian and I headed over early for a pint and a chat.

“So tell me about the plans, Jamie,” Ian said as we slid into a booth in the darkened pub. “Ye didna seem pleased on the phone the other day.”

“Aye, I’m no pleased,” I sighed. “I didna realize how ill prepared I am for it.”

“Well, what d’ye need?” he continued. “Can I help?”

Ian had obtained his Masters in Business Administration at Glasgow University a few years earlier, and I hadn’t thought to ask him for help with this. I recounted what Claire had said the weekend before, and my own feelings about how I wanted the business to grow.

“I have the capital to open at least 3 new shops, with some help from a bank loan,” I said. “I dinna think I can do it on my own, though. I’ll need to hire a manager for the shop now, and then staff for all the other locations, and I think I need someone with a business background for the other bits.” I shrugged. “I ken it will be difficult, but,” I smiled, “I’m quite excited about it.”

“I ken a few lads who might be interested in working wi’ ye,” Ian replied, taking a long sip of his beer.  

“I willna trust just anyone,” I shook my head. “I’d like ye to be my partner, _mo bhràthair_.”

“Och, Jamie,” he rolled his eyes. “I manage a farm full time, I canna also manage a bunch of bookshops.”

“Ye dinna have to,” I clasped his shoulder. “Ye’d just need to be the business brains behind it.”

“Aye, and what will Jenny say?” he eyed me.

“That ye should help yer brother-in-law,” I winked and he laughed. “Plus, wi’ all the bairns my sister’s popping out, I’m sure ye could use a bit more clink.”

“Aye, yer no wrong there,” he blushed. “Ye think we’d do alright?”

“Ian, I’d trust no one else,” I smiled. “Yer the only man I’d want on the job.”

I watched as he bit his lip and swirled his glass on the tabletop. “Och aye, I might as well help ye,” he burst out after a moment. “Dinna want ye to fail, Jenny would murder me.”

“Aye, she’d kill us both,” I laughed, raising my glass to him. “To our partnership.”

“Aye,” he clinked his glass with mine.

 

***

 

Claire:

My first two days of work were so exciting and exhilarating, and I knew almost immediately that I had made the right choice in the teaching hospital. I had jumped straight in feet first, assisting on a bowel resection on my first day, and taking a 12-hour shift in the A&E on the second day. I went home every night and fell into bed, barely sparing a moment to text Jamie and feed myself.

I went into Wednesday expecting a light day, I was only scheduled for rounds and a few consults. Of course, that wasn’t what I got.

I was standing at a nurses station on the 3rd floor with a doctor I had become friends with, Joe Abernathy, when the announcement came over the loudspeaker. “All available please come to A&E,” the disembodied voice crackled. Joe and I shared a brief look, before sprinting down the hallway to the stairway.

There had been a bus accident in Haymarket, and the while the injured had been split among the Edinburgh hospitals, we had received the brunt of it. I had spent hours stitching lacerations and setting bones, when I had a patient who needed an emergency appendectomy due to trauma from the accident.

“Joe, I can’t scrub in,” I stripped off my gloves. “I have to be somewhere at 6:30, and I can’t be late.”

“You don’t really have a choice, Lady Jane,” he chuckled. “Plus, you’ve still got time, and it’s a laparoscopic procedure. You’ll have more than enough time.”

I frowned at him for a moment, before glancing at my watch. “Fine,” I sighed. “Let’s go.”

***

Jamie:

I wasn’t bothered when Claire was a few minutes late, since I knew she was coming from the hospital. I was concerned when nearly an hour had gone by. I was pissed by the time two had gone by and Claire hadn’t called or showed.

“Can ye call the hospital?” Ian asked as I drummed my fingers against the tabletop. “What if something happened?”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” I replied. “I bet she forgot.”

“I’m so sorry!” Ian and I both looked up at the sound of Claire’s voice. “There was an accident and I got called in on what was supposed to be a simple surgery and it turned out not to be,” she was out of breath. “Ian, it is so nice to meet you!” Claire stuck out her hand and shook Ian’s quickly. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“Dinna fash, lass,” Ian smiled, pulling out the chair next to him.

“Can I speak to ye for a minute?” I stood up abruptly, and Claire and Ian both stared up at me. “Outside?”

“Y-yes,” she frowned. She draped her purse back over her shoulder before following me to the door.

“Would ye like to explain where ye’ve been for the last two hours?” I tried to keep my voice even, but my hands were shaking.

“Jamie, I told you already,” she frowned. “I got pulled into a surgery that ended up being more serious than originally expected!”

“And ye couldna call to tell me that ye we’re gonna be late?” I seethed. “Ye dinna think I wasn’t panicked that something terrible happened and ye were hurt or something?”

“Jamie, I was scrubbed into surgery, I couldn’t just peel back my gloves and say ‘oh, hold on guys, I have to text my boyfriend’!” Claire exploded. “I did text you when I got out to tell you that I was on my way, but you didn’t answer. And, I didn’t even stop to shower or change out of my scrubs,” she tugged on the front of her navy blue scrub top. “I came as quickly as I could, and the first thing out of my mouth was an apology.”

“Ye didna text me,” I shoved my phone under her nose. “I’ve been sittin’ here wi’ Ian for nigh on 3 hours, and wondering’ where ye were for the last two, Claire.”

“Jamie, I’m sorry,” she said firmly. “There’s nothing I can say but that.”

“I dinna ken that’s enough,” I shook my head. “You kent how important tonight was to me, Sassenach, and ye let me down. Ye embarrassed me in front of my family.”

“What do you want, Jamie?” I could see the pain in Claire’s eyes, and I felt my heart twist a little bit, but I ignored it. “Do you want me to turn time back and disobey my chief of surgery and not assist on the surgery? I can’t do that.”

“Ach!” I threw my hands up in the air. “I just want to feel that meeting Ian was as important to ye as it was to me.” I paused for a long moment, and shook my head. “And I just don’t.”

“Jamie,” she whispered, and I could see the tears in her eyes. “You know how excited I was for tonight, and I’m so sorry that I was late. But we can go back inside and have dinner and put this behind us.”

“I dinna think we can,” I shook my head.

Her mouth fell open and a few tears escaped down her cheek. Claire turned on her heel and walked away into the early night.

“Are ye daft?” I suddenly hear Ian’s voice behind me. “Ye sent her away?”

“Aye, I’m angry wi’ her,” I turned to face him.

“And surely she wasna too pleased wi’ ye either,” Ian shook his head and I could feel his disappointment. “I couldna cared less if she was early or 3 hours late, ye dolt. It’s clear she cares for ye, or she wouldn’t have been so upset to be late.” I stared him down, arms crossed tightly across my chest. “She apologized immediately, and ye sent her away.”

“Aye, I did,” I replied, annoyed with Ian’s response. “Can we go back in? I’m starved.”

“No, ye canna,” Ian shook his head. “Get yersef hame, Jamie. I dinna want to look at ye anymore.”

I gaped at him for a moment, but I realized almost immediately that Ian was serious. “And where will ye’ go?” I stared at him.

“Back inside to eat,” he said flatly. “If ye dinna want to go hame, go find Claire and tell her yer daft.” He turned and reached for the door to the pub. “I’ll see ye later, Jamie.”

I stood on the empty pavement for a while, before shoving my hands into my pockets and walking away.

 

***

 

Claire:

My tears had stopped soon after I left Jamie, and the sadness I felt quickly turned to anger. How dare he send me away and embarrass me in front of Ian? I wanted to kick and punch him, and make him feel the pain and anger I now felt.

I paced back and forth for a while when I got back to my apartment, unable to sit still. I wanted to call Jamie and yell at him, but in the same vein, I wanted Jamie to come groveling to me to apologize.

“Chance would be a fine thing,” I muttered to myself as I stomped into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine. I had only just lifted it to my lips when the firm knock came at the door.

“Claire?” Jamie’s voice was thick. “Open the door please!”

“I don’t think so, you utter arsehole,” I called back. “Go away, Jamie.”

“Please, Claire,” he pleaded. “I need to apologize to ye!”

I frowned, biting my lip as I stared down into the crimson liquid in my glass. I took a long swallow before setting the glass on the counter.

“Yes?” Jamie was startled when I pulled the door open sharply. “You wanted to apologize?”

“Aye, lass, I do,” he reached for me and I took a single step back, eyeing his outstretched hand with disdain. “Might I come in?”

“No, you might not,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. “Whatever you have to say for yourself you can say from the front door.”

His cheeks flushed, and he shifted his weight slightly. “I dinna ken what came over me back at the pub, Claire,” he started. “Ye didna deserve the way I spoke to ye, and for that, I am sorry.” He looked at me expectantly.

“That’s it?” my eyebrows knitted together. “THAT is all you have to say?”

“Aye, I suppose not,” Jamie gathered himself and looked at me for a long moment. “I’m sorry I made ye feel bad about being late, I should ha’ been more understanding of why ye were late and why ye couldna take a wee break to tell me.”

I snorted a bitter laugh, and Jamie’s eyes widened. “And for the fact that you embarrassed me in front of Ian? For sending me away in shame? For treating me like I was a child you could take over your knee?” I pushed. “No apology for that?”

“I didna think!” he exclaimed. “I was so enraged that I didna think of what I was saying and doing to ye, Claire.”

“That’s exactly right, Jamie,” I replied. “You didn’t think. And how am I supposed to take that? You don’t care enough about me to think before you speak to me? Because if you don’t, then I will shut this door right now and we will never have to speak again.” My voice cracked lightly.

“Claire,” I could see the pain in Jamie’s eyes and hear it in his voice. “Ye ken that isna how it is. I do care for ye. I stupidly let my temper get in the way of that. I promise ye it will never happen again.”

I shook my head. “We both know that it will happen again, Jamie,” I replied. “We both have tempers, and we’re both bound to lose them again.” I stepped closer and grasped Jamie by his shirt collar. “But don’t ever disrespect me or embarrass me in your anger again, you hear me, James Fraser?”

“I do,” he promised, the pale light from the hallway flickering in his eyes. “I’m so very sorry, Sassenach.”

“I know,” I sighed, releasing him and stepping back. “I had in mind to punch you and kick you, Jamie.”

“Aye, I kent that when ye opened the door,” he smiled and his eyes twinkled. “Ye’ve a glass face.”

“So you’ve said,” I smiled. “Would you like to come in?”

“I think I should probably head home and apologize to Ian,” he blushed. “Can ye join us for drinks tomorrow evening?”

“I believe I can,” I smiled. “I’ll do my best not to be late this time.”

He smiled, and I reached out to take his hand. “So, ye said something last night I thought was interesting,” he said after a minute.

“Oh really?” I asked. “What was that?”

“Ye called me yer boyfriend,” the word sounded strange in Jamie’s voice. “Did ye mean that?”

I bit my lip before looking up at him. “I think I did,” I nodded. “What do you think?”

“It would be an honor to have ye call me yer boyfriend,” he grinned, kissing me quickly. “I like the sound of it.”

“So do I,” I grinned. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed though, Jamie.”

“Aye, of course,” he reached to tuck a stray curl behind my ear, before he leaned in and kissed me slowly. “Until tomorrow, my Sassenach.”


End file.
